


Jack The Dog

by lordjohnmarbury



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bad Puns, Dogs, M/M, NHL off-season summer fun, Past Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Vegetarian Kent Parson, fluff in the most literal sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordjohnmarbury/pseuds/lordjohnmarbury
Summary: Kent gets some siblings for Kit Purrson, Jack gets increasingly exasperated by his choices of names.“Criss, Kenny, how do you expect me to be able to look Uncle Wayne in the eye knowing that I’ve ridden a horse named after him?”





	Jack The Dog

“Hey, Zimms. If you ever want to come over and ride my horse, feel free.”

Jack held his phone out in front of him, staring at it in disbelief.

“Kenny! In case you’d forgotten, I’m dating Bittle. You’re with Sid! Of course I’m not going to ‘ride your horse’! Why are you booty calling me and not your boyfriend?”

“Oh, that wasn’t a euphemism, I bought a horse yesterday and thought you might want to ride him some time. There are some really beautiful trail rides round here.”

“Do I even want to know what he’s called?” Jack sighed. At least at this point he was prepared for the worst. Although he doubted anything could be much worse than Parse naming his cat after himself.

“He’s called Mane Gretzky.” Jack could practically hear Parse’s grin.

“Criss, Kenny, how do you expect me to be able to look Uncle Wayne in the eye knowing that I’ve ridden a horse named after him?”

Kent carried on as if Jack hadn’t spoken. “He’s regal and majestic as fuck: 16 hands high, American Quarter Horse, beautiful sorrel coat—“

“These words you’re saying mean literally nothing to me,” Jack cut Kent off, shaking his head. “And since when do _you_ even know anything about horses? You grew up on Staten Island, not in the Wild West, and since then you’ve spent every day playing hockey, not horseback riding.”

“I’ve been learning; I started taking lessons during the off-season a couple of summers back.” Kent said indignantly. “Come visit and I’ll teach you.”

Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he’d been persuaded, but a couple of weeks later he somehow found himself driving a hire car past Kent’s house in Seven Hills, where he’d visited him before, and instead heading out into the desert towards Parse’s ranch. Then again, maybe he did know how he’d been persuaded, Jack mused to himself as Bittle sang along to his road trip playlist in the passenger seat. The honest reality was that he’d missed Kent- he’d gone from spending every second with him in the Q, both on ice and with their billet family, to cutting him out of his life completely- and while he’d definitely needed that break and the serious time in therapy that had accompanied it, Jack still did miss Kent. A smile crept across his face as he realised that now he had Bittle and Parse had Sid in his life, they both had gained the much needed perspective that had enabled them to apologise for their past mistakes and, finally, become friends again.

So, unbelievably, he was here in Nevada, on his way to spend the weekend with his ex-boyfriend- and with Bittle, no less. Bittle had previously spoken of Parse with frosty contempt whenever mentioned but now that Parse had apologised to Jack and that Sid had given him the seal of approval (“I don’t know Sidney Crosby… but I would trust him with my life. So I guess Kent Parson is ok after all”), he happily tolerated him. Also Jack had shown Bittle the picture Parse had sent him of the swimming pool at the ranch (“It has a miniature waterfall, Jack! Oh my Lord, is that an aquarium in the archway over the waterslide?!?”), which had probably gone some way in persuading him to come along.

When Jack parked his Jeep next to the pink Cadillac that he recognized as Parse’s, he was immediately met by a yellow Labrador with a furiously wagging tail running up to meet him, followed closely by a terrier with black and tan fur.

“Oh aren’t you a pair of cutie pies?” Bittle cooed as he got out of the car and crouched down to pet the Labrador. “And here I was thinking that Kent Parson was a cat person.”

“Hey there!” Bittle gave a little squeak and straightened up at the sound of the voice that was most definitely neither Jack’s Quebec accent or Parse’s New York drawl.

“Hi Sid,” Jack smiled and shook his hand, while Bittle’s face gradually got redder beside him. “I don’t think you’ve met my boyfriend, Eric Bittle, yet?” By now Bittle had met plenty of rich and famous NHL players, himself and Parse included, but the had been especially nervous about meeting Sid. For some reason, Jack pointing out that he’d know Sid since he was a teenager round at Uncle Mario’s house and promising that he was a nice guy hadn’t really helped.

“Nice to meet you, Eric,” Sid smiled and shook Bittle’s hand.

Bittle gave another small high pitched squeak before returning the greeting.

“Kent is out back setting up the barbecue,” Sid explained as he led them round the edge of the main ranch building, the dogs following close behind.

“Hey, this is your dog Sam, eh?” Jack asked Sid as the Labrador thumped her tail against his leg. “I remember her from when I visited Uncle Mario years ago,”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Sid nodded. “She’s 14 now. I think Mario was glad I eventually moved out of his place because he didn’t have to pick up her shits anymore.”

Bittle burst out laughing.

“What’s your other dog called?” Bittle asked, noticeably more relaxed now that Sid had broken the ice.

“Oh, that’s Sidney Dogsby,” Sid replied casually, pointing at the terrier snuffling around in the grass beside them.

“You named your dog after yourself?” Jack said incredulously, “Criss, I expect that from Kenny but not from you, Sid!”

“Dogsby is Kent’s,” Sid shrugged. “But he named him after me because I kind of look like him,” he picked up the dog and held him level with his own face to demonstrate the point. “Pretty cute, eh?”

Jack and Bittle exchanged sceptical glances but neither wanted to insult what Sid clearly saw as a romantic gesture from his boyfriend.

“That’s so cute!” Bitty smiled. “Y’all make an adorable pair.”

“Are you talking about Sid and Sidney Dogsby or Sid and Parse?” Jack chirped.

“Oh sweet LORD!” Bittle didn’t respond to the chirp because they’d turned a corner and Parse’s epic swimming pool had come into view. There was a cabana with a mini bar and a set of swings in front of it instead of seats, hammocks and lounge chairs dotted around the poolside. The pool itself was in the shape of the Las Vegas Aces spade logo, with three hot tubs clustered at the base, while a waterslide twisted around the diving board at the far end.

Next to the miniature waterfall that had gotten Bitty so exited stood Kent Parson turning portobello mushrooms over on the grill, wearing a snapback, Ray Bans, shorts and an apron printed with the words “FRIENDS NOT FOOD” printed on it. In the shade of a parasol lay yet another dog- a border collie with a tennis ball in its mouth. The guys made their way over towards him.

Parse gave Sid a quick kiss before passing over the tongs with strict instructions not to burn the veggie burgers.

“Hey, Zimms,” he grinned as he pulled Jack in for a tight hug. Jack couldn’t believe how easy this was; how natural it felt. He hadn’t really been _friends _with Parse- nothing more and nothing less- since he was 16, but it’s a relief that they’ve managed to put everything that happened in those intervening ten years behind them.

Parse then turns to Bittle and gives him a fist bump in greeting. Their relationship might have warmed considerably, but clearly they weren’t quite yet ready for hugs.

The four guys settled in wicker chairs by the barbecue with plates loaded with food. Eric hadn’t been able to bring a pie with him on the plane, but had been able to bring a Tupperware full of cookies with him, so they ate them along with Parse’s home-made ice cream, which Bittle had grudgingly admitted tasted amazing.

“I never realized you baked, Kenny,” Jack said in surprise and wonder as he licked his spoon clean. Their billet family had cooked most of their meals for them back in the Q, and Jack had never seen him make anything more complex than grilled cheese before. And this ice cream was _good_. Not as good as Bittle’s apple pie, because that was practically orgasm-inducing, but still delicious.

“You’ve got a type,” Sid chirped. “Short, blond, and good at baking.”

“Well, what is Parse’s type, then? Dark-haired Canadian hockey robots, eh?” Jack shot back.

“Uh, did you just chirp yourself then, honey?” Bittle sighed.

“I only date Conn Smythe winners,” Parse smirked.

“Me too,” Sid gave Parse a soppy grin before leaning in for a kiss.

“You do know I hadn’t won a Conn Smythe back when we dated? We were 17. Or is professional psychic also on your list of achievements?” Jack pointed out. Parse just gave him the finger over Sid’s back.

“So, um… you must tell me your ice cream recipe, Kent.” Bittle said awkwardly, clearly flustered by the two NHL stars making out in front of him, with no signs of coming up for air. They finally broke apart, clearly reluctantly.

“The secret ingredient is milk from my cow, Moorio Lemoo.”

Jack hears Eric’s “Oh Lord” at the same time as he lets out a particularly emphatic “_Criss de calice de tabarnak.”_

Parse’s face is covered with an ear to ear grin, and Sid is giggling.

“Please tell me you don’t have a cow named after Uncle Mario. Please do this one thing for me, Kent,” Jack pleaded, but with a note of resignation in his voice.

“Well, she seems to think she’s a horse, so I guess from Moorio’s perspective I don’t?”

_“_It’s not even a male cow? Couldn’t you have named her after a woman that I’ve never met rather than one of my uncles?”

“It was too good of a name to pass up,” Kent shrugged. “And I couldn’t pass her up either. I saw a video on Buzzfeed about how Moorio was orphaned as a calf and was raised by Mane Gretsky’s previous owners. But they were moving to Australia and couldn’t keep them, so Mane and Moorio needed a new home. They were in Utah, only like 7 hours away from here, so I knew it was a sign that I was meant to have them.”

“Oh, of course. That makes perfect sense, then.”

Parse and Bitty soon made their way into the kitchen for Parse to show Bittle his ice cream maker and to swap recipes, leaving Jack and Sid to chill in the hot tub. Jack had, of course, played against Sid in the NHL, but they hadn’t really chatted much since they were teenagers.

“You and Eric seem like a cute couple,” Sid commented.

A reflexive grin spread across Jack’s face at the mention of his boyfriend’s name. “Thanks. He’s normally way more talkative than this, but he’s kind of starstruck.”

“He’s met Kent before though, right?” Sid frowned.

“Oh yeah, he definitely isn’t starstruck by Parse. But I think he had a poster of you on his wall when he was growing up or something. If it makes that any less weird, his mom had a picture of my dad on her wall.” Jack winced. “Actually, that doesn’t really help. I usually just try to avoid thinking about how my future mother-in-law has had a crush on my dad for the past 30 years.”

“Mother-in-law, eh? Things are that serious?”

“Euh, I hope so? I mean, I think we both feel that way, but it’s not something we’d do for a couple of years, at least… so, what about you and Parse?”

Sid looked downcast.

“Parse is great, y’know?”

Jack nodded. “Things were never going to work out with us, but I know he’s a great guy. So…”

He trailed off, unsure how to address the fact that Sid suddenly seemed so upset. Talking about feelings was _not _his territory.

“Long distance is tough,” Sid shrugged. “And it’s not exactly easy to coordinate our schedules during the season. Like, now, it’s the off season, we spend all the time together that we can, but in a couple months, I’ll be 2000 miles away.”

Sid looked so sad and Jack was so incapable of thinking of any words of comfort that wouldn’t sound like empty platitudes that he figured that a light-hearted comment might be his best option.

“Things must be pretty serious if he’s named his dog after you, eh?”

Jack was surprised by how this comment made Sid giggle.

“I don’t think that would be a barrier to Kent dumping me, it’s not like he hasn’t got any other dogs named after an ex.”

“He has?”

Sid pointed down at the border collie lying by the poolside.

“Did Kent not tell you what that dog is called?”

Oh no. Jack slowly shook his head. Sid was now laughing hard.

“So apparently, because he has blue eyes, is wary of strangers, and likes going for runs, Kent thought that an appropriate name for Sidney Dogsby’s baby brother would be… Jack. He couldn't think of a good pun, though, so his name is just Jack the dog.”

This, Jack decided, was a step too far. He climbed out of the hot tub and opened the door to the pool house. After a minute he stepped outside again, now holding a pair of huge Super Soaker water guns, and passed one to Sid.

“Sid, I know he’s your boyfriend and you love him, but right now I need you to help me get revenge.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let Moorio Lemoo be my legacy. 
> 
> I also considered including a little cat brother for Kit Purrson called Nathan Mackitten, but he didn't quite make the cut.


End file.
